


Irma Boissy and Grantaire

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bisexuality, Drinking, Friendship, Gen, Heterosexual Character, Humor, Laughter, Light-Hearted, Male Homosexuality, Male-Female Friendship, Other, Sex Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 08:27:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1068256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I filled a prompt from the Les Misérables Kink Meme: </p><p>"'He was frightfully ugly; the prettiest shoe-binder of that period, Irma Boissy, revolting at his ugliness, had uttered this sentence: "Grantaire is impossible," but Grantaire's self-conceit was not disconcerted.'<br/>I'd like a fic expanding on this little anecdote: how do Irma and Grantaire know each other/meet? What brings Irma to make that statement? How does Grantaire react?<br/>Ideally, I'd like it to be a lighthearted/humorous piece rather than anything too angsty, and I'd like them to at the very least remain friends after the episode."</p><p>So I went with it, this is basically Irma and Grantaire as friends sharing a drink, a laugh, some anecdotes, talking about sex and having a good time. Mostly dialogues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irma Boissy and Grantaire

Irma Boissy was tired but happy. The weekend was finally here and she could relax. She sure needed it, there had been some early mornings – and she had never been a morning person. She had just gone home from work to change clothes, the grey dress she wore at work was nothing she wished to be seen in out of it. She quickly changed into a light blue dress instead, removed the pins in her hair and tied it up with a ribbon instead. After that, she put on her favourite straw hat. It was spring, it was a pleasantly warm evening and she wanted to look her best. She was going to have a glass of wine at the wine-shop Corinth, and if she was lucky she would even run into one or some of her friends. She took one last look in the mirror. She was pleased with what she saw, the blue dress went well with her light red locks.

At the Corinth she ordered a bottle of a sweet, white wine she was very fond of. First she was about to order just a glass of it, but she immediately changed her mind. She deserved a treat, and on top of that she was a rather heavy drinker. She could outdrink many people, men and women, and one bottle never harmed anybody. She got seated and poured herself a glass. She took a sip and sighed contentedly. After a while she saw a familiar figure approaching. He ordered something and turned around, immediately noticing her. He flashed her a big smile, showing most of his crooked, discoloured teeth, a very familiar smile. She smiled back and gestured for him to come and have a seat.

“Good evening, Grantaire! How is life treating you?”  
“Irma, Irma, as beautiful as always, plump as a pigeon with a smile fresh as spring herself! Life is treating me rather well, I’m not on top of Lady Luck, but not licking her bottom either.”  
“Grantaire, Grantaire, as hideous as ever, your nose like the beak of a puffin bird and a face that only a mother could love! Are you trying to quote Hamlet?”  
“Rosencrantz and Guildenstern’s conversation with Hamlet, yes, but since I’m rather intoxicated already I cannot remember the exact words. But who on earth cares, it’s a pleasant evening, bats will soon fill the night and I have wine and a beautiful woman by my side, how could things possibly go wrong?” Grantaire chuckled and took a swig of his wine, right from the bottle.  
“Grantaire, my friend, you are indeed impossible.” Irma laughed and took a gulp of her wine as well.  
“Impossible, you say? Why is that, my dearest Irma?”  
“Oh, Grantaire, you are impossible to fall in love with, impossible to lust after.” She winked. “So if you are trying to seduce me, like the last time we met, the answer will still, sadly, be no.”  
“Irma, Irma, Irma… That was by no means an attempt of seduction. It was merely a drunk man appreciating the company of a beautiful woman. Nothing more, even though I would probably have a hard time saying no if the roles were reversed and it was you who attempted to seduce me.”  
“You were kissing me and pulling me close. I know a seduction attempt when I see one.”  
“That’s correct, that’s correct. My humblest apologies, I had completely forgotten about that incident. The kissing and groping-incident, that is. No hard feelings, Mademoiselle?”  
“None whatsoever. As you probably have forgotten as well I was the one who kissed you first.” Irma grinned and took another gulp of wine, savouring the taste for a while before swallowing the liquid down.  
“But Irma, why would you kiss a gargoyle such as myself?” Grantaire chuckled.  
“Because I found that gargoyle utterly charming and a pleasant company, and some kisses have never harmed anyone.”  
  
Grantaire started to laugh and emptied almost half of his bottle with one, huge chug. He looked at Irma. She was, indeed, very beautiful, her skin was fair, she had some freckles in her face, her lips weren’t that full, but certainly well shaped. That didn’t mean that he was lusting after her. In fact he was much fonder of men, but that didn’t mean that he never took women to his bed. After all, he wanted to show his friends that he, despite his looks, wasn’t unable to seduce women, even pretty ones. He wanted to give people the impression that he was in general demand – which he, to put it bluntly, was not.  
  
“Especially not the kisses of a young beauty such as yourself. But now I feel egocentric, you must forgive a man like me, talking only about himself and of beauty, two things hard to combine otherwise. How is life treating you, Irma, are you, per chance, on top of Lady Luck?”  
“On top of her, resting my head against her bosom.”  
“That sounds comfortable.”  
“It is. She is quite a feisty lady, but she lets me lean on her as much as I want to. What I said before, that you are impossible to lust after, I realized now that it might have been a lie. I happen to know for sure that you went home with one of my friends a mere two weeks ago. She said that you were quite the cunning linguist.”  
“And when I used my cunning tongue on her she didn’t have to see my face, so all was well. If she didn’t merely meant that I was well spoken, which she, in that case, is absolutely right about, my wit is one of my few virtues.” Grantaire chuckled and lit up his clay pipe.  
“Oh, the former, the former. She meant the former. But I cannot deny your wit. Can I have a drag of your pipe? Oh, I know, I know. It’s unladylike to smoke, but it’s also unladylike to drink and swear like a sailor, which are some of my favourite vices.”  
“By all means, smoke as much as you want in my presence. Do I look like someone who would care if a damsel is ladylike or not? I am not very ladylike myself, I even stand up when I piss, and I’m pretty sure not even you do that.” Irma laughed loudly and took a drag of his pipe.  
“You are correct, Monsieur Grantaire, I don’t. I squat like a proper lady.”  
“How about your love life, then? Any fortunate or unfortunate seductions lately?”  
“Ah, none to talk about. There was this man, hung like a little boy… A sailor. He was dreadful. Finished after a minute or two, then rolled over to sleep and to snore. And there was… oh, what was his name? Monsieur Moreau I think his name was. Wavy hair, wearing spectacles. He was rather pleasant. Rather noisy in bed too. I like that in a man.”  
“Moreau, you say? A poet of some sort?”  
“Exactly! Do you know him?”  
“Know him, Mademoiselle? I’ve had him!” Grantaire grinned and took a smoke.  
“You must be jesting!” Irma’s eyes widened and she refilled her glass for the third time.  
“I am not. He might fancy beautiful women as well, but when I met him he was acting like a full blown sodomite, lover of the Greek. Had my tongue up his arse for hours.” Irma laughed, hard and loud until she had to wipe away a few tears.  
“This is priceless. Truly and utterly priceless. Then I have indirectly bedded you, or the other way around. And it seems like we share the same taste in men to boot! That is, if you found him as pleasant as I did. But one must find another person pleasant if one is willing to put his tongue where the sun doesn’t shine just to please them.”  
“You are correct, he was very pleasant and I wouldn’t say no to having him again.”  
“Cheers for that.” Irma made her glass and Grantaire’s bottle clink together before taking a long drink, letting out a pleased sigh.  
“Cheers. I seem to be almost out of wine. A glass of stout would be nice. Shall I buy one for you as well?”  
“Absolutely! You might be a rowdy drunk, but so am I.”  
“That is why I’m so utterly fond of you.”  
“Likewise.”

Grantaire came back a few minutes later with two large pint glasses in hands. He slipped one of them to Irma, who smiled and took a sip.  
“As delicious as I remembered it to be.” Grantaire nodded and took a gulp himself, letting out a satisfied belch.  
“Pardon. How very unladylike of me.”  
“Terrible.” Irma smirked and took a bigger gulp, swallowed it down and belched even louder. “But more ladylike than me, still.”  
“I make a dreadfully ugly lady, though. Too much facial hair.”  
“Not to mention your genitalia. Not that I have seen you anywhere below the belt, but my guess is that your parts are slightly bigger than expected in a lady.”  
“Much bigger.”  
“No need to brag.”  
“I am merely stating the truth. What do you say, Irma? After we’re finished with this delicious beverage, let us stroll the streets of Paris in search for some friends of ours. I am in the mood for more liquor and a round of cards or dominoes.”  
“An excellent idea, Monsieur.”


End file.
